Wolf Tracks
by EvilKittyCalico
Summary: Jana struggles to make a new life for herself in Valdemar after fleeing Jkatha, but the past is reluctant to let her go.
1. Meetings

Title: Wolf Tracks   
Rating: PG-13, and that probably is overkill. Mild language and violence.  
Author: EvilKittyCalico (mean_kitty@earthlink.net)  
Disclaimer: Just playing in Mercedes Lackey's world. No copyright infringement intended. The character of Jana is mine, anyone else you don't immediately recognize is probably also of my creation. Please don't play with my characters without my permission.  
A/N: Takes place after the Mage Storms trilogy, don't be surprised if you stumble across some spoilers for the Owl trilogy as well.  
Summary: Jana struggles to make a new life for herself in Valdemar, but the past is reluctant to let her go.  
  
_Italics_ by themselves indicate thoughts.   
:: _italics_ :: indicate mindspeech.  
  


Chapter 1 - Meetings  


  
Never had she imagined there would be so much snow! When the first fat flakes had begun to fall a day ago, she had been amazed at their size. When the ground began to disappear under a soft carpet of white, she had gazed at the sight in wonder. Now, with all color wiped clean from the landscape and the air itself become a solid mass of white driven by wind-bourne fury, she was unable to dredge up any emotion other than fear. The little mare she rode had been weary even before they had begun their steady ascension into the hill country, now she fought for each step in the knee deep snow, occasionally stumbling into a drift that came chest deep or higher. She had struggled free with luck and determination up until now, but Jana held no false illusions of what the mare's chances were should they find the going ahead to be any deeper.   
  
I'm sorry sweetling, she murmured. I never meant for you to come to harm. The snow that landed on the mare's neck and rump wasn't melting, but settling to form a delicate tracery of white over the sorrel coat. It was a perfectly normal occurrence for a pasture kept animal with it's full winter's coat come in, where the undercoat insulated the horse so perfectly that no body heat could escape to melt the snow. On Vixen, with her light coat meant for much gentler weather, it was simply another sign that their journey would soon end, one way or another. They needed shelter, and soon!   
  
Jana huddled deeper into the oversized red greatcoat she wore. She had buttoned it up in front till it reached her chin, and tucked the ends back up so that they were held between her thighs and the saddle. The arrangement held in more heat then she had dared hoped it would, and by keeping her hands tucked up under her breasts she had managed to keep her fingers safe from frostbite. She'd pulled her long black hair free from its bun a few miles back, for lack of anything better to protect her ears. Her nose....well, she wouldn't think about that. The rest of her was faring quite well, although she knew that state of affairs would come to a very abrupt end should Vixen falter. She might be able to make it a quarter league on foot, maybe more if she had a concrete goal to aim for, or if she didn't wander off the edge of a cliff. Thank the Bright One for Great-Uncle Triton actually buying her a naming day gift that was _functional_ as well fashionable! The knee length doeskin boots she wore were embroidered in the circular Shin'a'in inspired pattern that was the current rage amongst the JKathan nobility, but also had thick fur from the winter coats of snow hare lining the insides. She was quickly gaining a very deep appreciation of why no one in the north ever wanted to fight wars in winter. A few weeks marching in this, and you'd _gladly_ throw yourself on your enemy's sword just to get away from the cold!  
  
For the past week she had watched the Comb growing larger in the distance as she rode steadily north towards Valdemar. At first Jana had wondered if she'd been given the wrong directions - surely, these mountains were not the hills' the merchant guards spoke of! - but the few fellow travelers she passed by had confirmed her route when she'd stopped to speak with the safer looking ones. The range of hills that stood between Southern Valdemar and Northern Rethwellan could be fierce indeed, they'd warned, but the road would swing her clear of the worst and take her safely through White Foal Pass. They'd also warned her to be sure she had warm clothing and extra winter supplies, advice she had nodded to then foolishly put out of mind. Hadn't she spent nearly every winter of her life out hunting and fishing with her elder brothers? Wasn't she one of the best female trackers her father's huntsman could ever recall? Okay, perhaps the _only_ female tracker anyone in Felwether could recall, but she had still been a match for the younger boys, and many of her own age set as well.  
  
Well, there was cold, and then there was _cold_. The relatively gentle winters of southern Jkatha and the fierceness she rode in now were distant cousins at best. It had been growing colder as she rode on, which she had expected and planned for on her departure, packing one of her eldest brother's old greatcoats and a few of his extra shirts she could layer on for warmth. Her first warning that she was out of her range of experience should have come with the observation that the leaves weren't even fully turned, yet it was already as cold as a JKathan mountain top on the darkest midwinter night.  
  
Vixen stumbled again, going to her knees in the snow. She got up slowly, but then stayed rooted to the spot. Jana squeezed her on with her calves, bringing her spurs into play when that failed to illicit a response beyond flattened ears. Bright one bless her soul, the mare had gone farther and done it faster than any animal in her physical condition could be expected to, but she'd reached her limit. Jana swung off Vixen clumsily, swearing softly as she sank up to mid-thigh. Damn this cold, and double-damn this snow! Obviously, the going was getting deeper the further they went. She tried to take a step forward, and ended up face first in the snow. The second attempt wasn't any more successful, nor was the third. If the snow had even been a handspan shallower.....but it wasn't and that was the way she had to take it. Walking was no longer an option. She climbed more then sprang into the saddle, grabbing mane in one hand and the cantle in the other and hauling herself up like a backwoods farmer boy who had never been horseback before. It took two tries for her to unfasten her belt, stabbing her thumb once with the tong of the buckle before it was free of her britches and out from the under the greatcoat.  
  
I dearly hope you live to forgive me for this, she whispered, patting Vixen's neck. She grasped the belt buckle firmly in her right hand and swung the belt back over her thigh so that it hit smartly along the mare's right flank, then brought it neatly up and over the mare's neck and back around to lash the left side with one smooth movement of her hand. Vixen lunged forward, eyes rolled back and nose skyward, crashing through the snow like a frightened deer for several yards before the deep going forced her to a more efficient pace. The belt trick was one Great-Uncle had shown her when she had been small, the only sure way to get her old barn sour pony to even consider leaving his paddock to explore the woods that ran behind Great-Uncle's hunting lodge. She had never felt the least bit guilty about striking _him_. Rabbit had always been quick to lash out with teeth or heels, and every overture of kindness she'd made to the beast had resulted in some part of her being bloodied and a trip to the city healer.   
  
Vixen kept her head cocked slightly to the side as she struggled through the snow, one liquid brown eye rolled back to keep track of Jana. It was going to be awhile before she earned the mare's full trust back. The finely bred saddlemare was not the sort to tolerate harsh handling, and Jana could only recall once in the mare's seven years where she had resorted to physical punishment with her. That had merely been a light smack with the end of a lead rope to let the then yearling filly know that rearing and striking was a fine way to play with her year mates, but not an acceptable way to greet a much smaller - and breakable - human.   
  
The snowfall was too heavy for Jana to see any of the sky, but the quality of the light was shifting in such a way as to signal the coming night. They had to find shelter, but where? She wasn't even entirely sure what _country_ she was in at the moment, much less the location of the nearest homestead or lodge! And as for living off nature...Ha! The landscape around her was nearly as bad as the stories she had heard the trader's tell of the Pelagir Hills. Scrub brush and dead grasses and towering hills that ended in sheer rock more often then not. The trees she'd seen before the snow began had been pitiful wind-twisted things, too small to even feed a fire through the night much less allow a horse and rider to find shelter beneath their branches.   
  
It had been hellish going even while the fall weather held on and only the _threat_ of snow hung over her head. Six days of camping with no shelter and no fire and barely enough forage to keep a summer fat goat alive, much less a horse ridden hard. If she had been clever she would have packed a waxed canvas tent and traveling charcoal brazier when she left Felwether, but to say that she'd left in a hurry would be something of an understatement. Besides, no one had ever said anything about the snow that surely came straight from the depths of the Shin'a'in hell!   
  
There was something looming up ahead, large enough for it show even through the swirling white. Jana frowned at it, leaning forward and squinting to see if she could bring it into better focus. Vixen's head came up, ears pricked as though she was listening to something. She whickered softy and increased her pace, and Jana tried not to let her hopes ride too far ahead- the mare could be honing in on anything, even a herd of half-frozen goats - but the closer they drew the clearer the outline of the shape was. A building, and a large one at that. She wanted to jump off Vixen and dance her joy, but settled for a small smile that didn't stretch her cold-chapped lips too far. She untucked her hands from under her coat to pick up the reins she had loosely knotted and laid on Vixen's neck, steering the mare around to the leeward side of the lodge where the ground held only a slight dusting of snow. There she dismounted, happier then words could tell at having her feet touch the ground and _not sink_. She had a few soft words for Vixen, then loosened the saddle girth and slipped the reins over the mare's head to lead her with.  
  
With the snow blocked she could easily see that her salvation was indeed a lodge of some sort, a fairly good-sized and well built one at that. There was a porch at one end, stairs with wooden railing leading up to a door. The other end looked to be some type of built in stable, judging by the double half-doors and scattered straw outside. Her first priority was to get the shivering mare out of the elements, and she headed towards the far side. The door opened with a light push, swinging in on soundless hinges. It was _much_ warmer inside then out, the reason why becoming apparent before she'd made it more then two steps. Two white horses and a half dozen sheep-like creatures with long necks blinked sleepily at her as she led Vixen in. The animals' combined body heat was enough to keep the small space as toasty as if there'd been a fire roaring.  
  
Huh. Looks like we aren't going to be alone after all, she told the mare, but I'm sure they won't mind another. And if they do mind, I'll gladly accept being murdered in my sleep as long as they let me spend a candlemark in front of the fire first. Jana worked as she talked, stripping off Vixen's tack and grabbing handfuls of straw bedding to use in lieu of a brush on the wet red coat. The mare was still shivering, worse than any horse Jana had ever seen before. Poor sweetling. How am I going to get you warm? If she'd been home, she would have fetched the oversized woolen blanket the horsemaster kept for just this purpose, and would have walked the mare up and down the center aisle way of the massive barn until she was dry to the touch. But Jana wasn't at home, and there wasn't any cooler lying around, so how to improvise?  
  
The barn was warm enough that she didn't really need her coat, not with two cotton shirts underneath it. That she laid on Vixen's neck, tying the sleeves together by the mare's throatlatch so it would stay put. Her saddle blanket was too wet from snow and sweat to be useful, but the tack for the white horses was dry and within reach. I hope you don't mind, but I think I need this more then you do at the moment, she told the nearest one as she reached behind him to pull the two saddle blankets off the dowel they'd been hung on. The stallion looked at her almost as though he understood, then stepped forward so that she had better access. She threw one blanket over Vixen's back and the other over her rump, then put the horse in an empty stall between the white mare and a group of three sheep-things. The sheep-things had been messy with their food, pushing enough of it through the slats dividing the stalls so that Vixen would be able to eat her fill. There was already a water bucket three-quarters of the way full in the corner, and she checked to make sure it was clean before latching the stall door closed. She wasn't happy about leaving Vixen alone with a stallion, but he wasn't bothering the mare next to him, and hadn't called out to Vixen or otherwise made a pest of himself. No choice but to trust luck and winter's chill. Jana left her saddle where she'd dropped it, but untied the saddlebags from behind the cantle before slipping out of the cozy barn.  
  
The door wasn't locked, and no one came when she knocked, so she just went in, calling a hello as she did so. Bright Lady, it was good to be warm! She stayed in the entry way for a few moments with her eyes closed and head tilted back, savoring the heat. She could have easily stayed that way half the night, but there were clothes to dry and people to meet and sleep to catch up on. The room she was in was small and undecorated, lit by a single lantern. One wall had a row of wooden peg-hooks that held two dusty dark fur-lined cloaks and two dripping wet white ones. There was a small hallway leading off into the interior.  
  
Hello the house! she called again, and this time she got the answer she had been half-hoping for and half-dreading. The comment she had made to Vixen about being murdered in her sleep was said in jest, but that didn't mean that it also wasn't a real possibility. She couldn't help but feel a small tendril of trepidation rising up within her.  
  
Come down the hall, we've got the fire roaring and some hot wine ready! a women called back. Jana headed towards the voice. The hall led a short ways before opening up into a large central room, where the fire was indeed roaring. Animal-head trophies lined the walls, and an odd assortment of stuffed chairs and tables allowed ample opportunity for occupants to take advantage of the fire's warmth. A tall woman dressed in simple well-fitted white clothes had a clay mug of hot spiced wine in Jana's hands before she knew what had hit her, and she was quickly led over to a plank table where a similarly dressed blonde woman sat.  
  
Look at you! The blonde clucked, managing to come surprising close to an exact impression of Aunt Tean. She had a farmwife's face, tan and lined, with startling grey-blue eyes a noblewoman would envy. Half frozen, and you're not just going to let her drip on the floor, are you Caer?  
  
Give me a chance Tess, give me a chance! I wasn't going to wrestle her to the ground and strip her bare as soon as she stepped clear of the hall! Now, she said, walking around to where Jana could see her better, are you more my size or Tess's? If Tess brought to mind a farmwife then this Caer was a noble, Jana decided. A face shaped like a jeweler cut diamond and smooth skin, eyes of jade and dark hair that tumbled down to her shoulders and held a slight curl. Her eldest brother would have taken a single look at this one and beaten the father's door down asking for permission to come courting!  
  
I think I am closer to your size, my lady, she replied. At least language wasn't the problem she'd feared. Jkatha and Rethwellan spoke nearly the same tongue, with only minor differences in the way some things were named. She'd been told that anyone who could make themselves understood in Rethwellan would have no trouble in Valdemar, but you never really knew until you'd seen a thing firsthand.   
  


+  


A candlemark later a very happy, warm and _dry_ Jana sat lounging by the fire, her chair pulled so close the legs were actually resting on the red tiles of the hearth. She was wearing one of Caer's white silver-trimmed shirts, her own britches proving salvageable. Between the high boots and long coat, they had stayed fairly dry. Her boots were drying by the fire, a pair of shearing lined slippers serving to keep her feet warm in the meantime. They were several sizes too large, and slipped off if she wasn't careful how she moved her feet. A soft eiderdown was wrapped around her shoulders and piled high by her neck so that she could nuzzle her cheek against it in pure hedonistic bliss. _I never thought I'd be this comfortable again_ . She had let the first cup of wine go cold while she enjoyed the feel of the warm cup under her hands, but a refill had been provided without complaint, and she sipped the berry flavored drink as she and Caer waited for Tess to return from checking on Vixen. The woman wouldn't hear of Jana going back out into the blizzard herself, not when they had only just finished defrosting her.  
  
The sound of the front door slamming heralded Tess's return, Caer handing her a mug as she rejoined them in the central room.   
  
It's really blowing out there! she said, grabbing an eiderdown of her own and settling down across from Jana and catty-corner to Caer. Your mare seems to be doing fine, and she's warm enough now that I took the blankets off her. I brought your coat back and hung it with the others in the entry.  
  
Now then, Caer began, since it looks like we three will be spending some time together, perhaps we should get to know each other a little better. I was wondering if you would mind starting with why you were attempting the Comb in winter? Her tone was light and teasing, but Jana sensed steel hidden within the silk.   
  
Jana had no intentions of telling the two the truth, no matter how nice they seemed. There was already a price on her head in Jkatha, no need to add Valdemar to that list as well! There was no reason why she couldn't share an edited version of it though, enough of a story to waylay their suspicions with raising more.   
  
Would you believe I don't know? That earned her two identical expressions with raised left eyebrows, and she smothered a laugh before continuing. I've been traveling north ever since I left my home in southern Rethwellan, and I'm afraid my knowledge of the roads ended somewhere around Petras. I was told that the Valdemar Trade Road would take me around the Comb and clear to Haven, and I had every intention of staying on the road, truly I did! But then I saw a small trail leading off into the hills, and some spirit of adventure possessed me to forego common sense and take it. Six days later I was as lost as a Shin'a'in in Petras, it began to snow, and here I ended up.  
  
Tess and Caer exchanged a look, seeming to communicate more then was possible in a single glance. Tess finally turned back to Jana.  
  
So you were headed to Haven?  
  
She shrugged. I thought I might stay in Haven for the winter, then continue on north. I've heard the merchant guards speak of Iftel, and how the border is passable now. That sounded an interesting place to visit.  
  
They frowned, and gave each other another Look. I hope you are not offended by my doubt, Caer said, but it seems very strange for a young woman to be out alone with no weapons, and no real idea of where she's going.  
  
I've no betrothed who will be riding up demanding my return if that's what you're worried about, and no guardsmen on my trail. Jana made her tone firm without spilling over into rudeness. She wanted to discourage prying without getting kicked out into the blizzard. I wanted adventure, and there were few possibilities for me in my home village that I favored. I perhaps should have taken note of how many Bard's tales ended with the adventuring hero dead or dying, but I've managed this far and I can manage farther.  
  
I suppose that's as much information as we have a right too, Tess said slowly, while her expression stated exactly the opposite. Still, it's a miracle you made it this far - do you realize you're almost clear of the Comb? - and I think you have a very interesting story to tell someday. Now, as you've already gathered, I'm Tess and this is Caer. We're both Heralds, in service to the Queen of Valdemar.  
  
Like guardsmen? Jana asked. She had heard of the Heralds of Valdemar, but other then their tendency to parade around dressed like archery targets, the stories hadn't had much detail as to who they were and what they did.  
  
Caer thought on the question a moment before answering. A little like guardsmen, yes, in that we help keep the peace and join in on fighting during times of war. But we also serve to gather and carry information for the Queen, enforce the law and dispense justice when needed.  
  
Like bringing the government to the people instead of the other way around? It was a good idea, once you thought about it. She had never been allowed to go with her father when he met with the outlying vassals, since that was man's work and not a future lady's concern, but her brothers had always come back rich with tales to tell. One of the underlying themes to most of their stories was that a watched pot rarely boils over. Troubles quickly seen to were troubles quickly resolved, but leaving the people to stew for a year while they waited for the lord's return could mean bloodshed.  
  
  
Yes, that is a good analogy. Each Herald who isn't on a special assignment - such as teaching at the Collegium, or the Herald Chronicler - regularly goes out on circuit, traveling from town to town. New Heralds spend their first circuit with a more experienced Herald, to better learn the job. This is Tess's first time on circuit since she was given her Whites. We were nearly at the end of our circuit when this storm hit.  
  
We'll be heading back to Haven as soon as the weather is safe to travel, Tess added. You are more than welcome to ride back with us if you wish, though the trip may not go as quickly as it would if you rode alone  
  
Thank you very much for the offer! Slow or not, you won't see the end of me until Haven. _Guides! Knowledgeable, well armed guides I don't have to pay! _Jana could have kissed either woman right then and there, but settled for a restrained smile.  
  
Finally, things were starting to look up.  
  
  
  
  


+  
  


It was nearly midnight when Caer slipped quietly out the door of the old hunting lodge, leaving the mysterious Jana curled up in an armchair and Tess snoring away like one of the artificer's steam contraptions in their bed. The snow had stopped an hour before, leaving the night crystal sharp and bright under the moonlight. The snow crunching under her boots sounded disproportionally loud in the silent night, but there wasn't any sneaking up on Melli anyway.  
  
:: _You should be in bed _:: her Companion chided, knowing that Caer would ignore her as was her usual. Her mind-voice carried overtones of the joy of a warm bed on a cold night, almost as though she was overlaying a picture on her words. Caer walked over to hand-comb Melli's mane, her favorite mindless activity to indulge in when she was trying to think things through.  
  
With the way Tess snores? If I recall, you've opted to spend more then one night out in the snow rather then share close quarters with her in a way station.  
  
:: _Are you two spreading lies about my Chosen again? _:: Gavin yawned, propped his forelegs out in front of him as though he was considering getting up, then thought better of it and settled himself back down in the straw. Caer still wasn't sure if having her bondmate's Companion speak freely to her was a blessing or curse. Sometimes just having _one_ sarcastic horse in her head was more then she could handle. For that matter, she still wondered if she wouldn't have been happier being just plain in love' and not lifebonded.  
  
:: _Of course_, :: Melli joked. :: _Tess sleeps quietly, fish fly and cats bark at the moon_. :: Gavin flattened his ears for a moment, and Melli tossed her head, blue eyes bright with laughter.   
  
:: _You're worried about the little traveler_, :: Gavin said, making it a statement.  
  
Something doesn't add up about her, and I don't mean the obvious. When Melli had alerted her to a visitor in the barn, she'd assumed the girl would be a mercenary of some sort, or a mage. Someone you could reasonably expect to have the wits and skills to make it through such a nasty storm. But when the youngling came walking in the room, Caer had barely been able to cover her shock. Jana couldn't be past her sixteenth naming day, if that, and about as ruggedly built as a _dyheli_ fawn. Those hands were too soft for her to be anything but noble or mage born, and the only weapon she could lay claim to was an eating knife carefully packed away in her bags. How the girl had managed to stay alive on the roads from South Rethwellan to here was past either Tess or Caer's understanding.  
  
:: _We are most certainly not hearing the entire story, Chosen. Although I do not feel that she is any threat_. ::  
  
:: _Nor do I_, :: Gavin agreed. :: _But yes, she is holding back_ _no few small details_ ::  
  
Caer frowned as she worked out a particularly nasty tangle. Really, she sometimes thought Gavin helped Melli make a mess of herself just to give Caer something to do. Running from something? Or someone.I don't suppose there's anything either one of you cares to share with me? Both Companions stayed silent, but exchanged glances. Telltale _guilty_ glances. she prodded. You both know I'll stand her all blessed night and poke you incessantly if need be.  
  
:: _She is a mage. Untrained, but with adept potential_, :: Melli admitted, after the silence had gone on too long.  
  
She probably could have worked that snarl free without yanking out _quite_ so much hair, but it got her point across to Melli. How did the Companions know these things sometimes? She was half convinced they were all mages themselves. Untrained mage as in she might accidentally light our campfires without warning or mage as in might accidentally flatten a town without warning?  
  
:: _I do not think you have cause to worry. She has shields around herself that are very strong - but I also do not think she even knows they are there_. ::   
  
Someone else put them there?  
  
:: _Or if she did something with magic to traumatize herself while young, _:: Gavin answered, :: _and then put them in place unconsciously to stop the bad' things from reoccurring_. ::  
  
That's possible? Well then, I could see that. We've certainly seen enough Trainees come in that have done similar things with their Gifts. Remember that Holderkin boy last midsummer? And if she falls into that category, she may not even _remember_ the bad' thing. She sighed. Why can't anything ever be simple?  
  
:: _Because if it was, you'd be bored out of your mind_ _within a sevenday _::  
  
She smacked Melli lightly on the shoulder. That was a rhetorical question, horse. How is her mare doing, anyway? She stood up on her toes to get a better look over Melli's back, spotting the horse over in the far corner by the chirras. Wasn't she supposed to be in the stall next to you?  
  
:: _I let her out. She seems to enjoy the chirras' company more then she does our own_. _Poor thing, she was on her last legs when she came in, but she seems to be doing much better now_. ::  
  
Yes, she does look better. She went over to take a closer look. The bright sorrel was dozing on her feet, obviously not comfortable enough with the strange surroundings to lay down for a deeper dream-sleep. The sound of Caer's footsteps brought her to attention, head swinging around to fix one large eye on the approaching woman. She didn't retreat further into the stall, but she didn't come forward for a greeting either. The mare was underweight, not terribly, but enough for Caer to catch the outline of her ribs with each rising breathe and note the too prominent hipbones. She was recently shod, the even and well-set clinches speaking of a job well done and an above average farrier. Jana must have opened her purse strings quite a bit for that job. _Ridden hard, but well cared for_. She certainly is a fine little thing. Purebred Shin'a'in? she asked, walking back over to Melli.  
  
:: _Most certainly purebred_. _It shows in her head_. _See how wide set her eyes are? There's a brain between those foxy little ears_, :: Melli said. :: _If she is a cull, then she must have come from the most discriminating clan to ever set foot on the plains._ :: It was a source of much amusement to the Companion that Caer always asked her opinion of horseflesh. Caer maintained that there was no better way to get information then to go to the source, and she had learned a great deal from Melli in the years since being chosen. She was just careful to never share how it was she came to her knowledge. She still hadn't lived down the hawking incident, no need to give the other Heralds even _more_ joke fodder,  
  
Then either our little traveler is a thief, or she comes from some means. Somehow I doubt the former, she doesn't have the physical constitution for that line of work. She sighed, leaning into Melli's shoulder and enjoying the warmth of the Companion's body. Curious and curiouser. I do hope our find decides to talk to us before we reach Haven.  
  
:: _As do I Chosen, as do I_. ::


	2. The Road to Haven

A/N: Big thanks and virtual truffles to **etcetera-cat**, **Queen's Own** and **mysticmoods** for the reviews. I'm not a total review-slut, but they do give me some serious warm fuzzies.   
  
  


Chapter 2 - The Road to Haven  
+  


It was two days before the storm was fully abated, another four before the Heralds judged the hill roads passable. On the morning of the seventh day, the three readied for the trip north.   
  
Jana sat on Vixen as she watched the two women ready their horses. Nerves had chased her out of bed and to the barn an hour before the early rising Caer even had her slippers on. Vixen had already been tacked, dancing impatient circles in the snow, before she saw Tess up. Jana wanted to be gone, to Haven, to the south, to anywhere! As long as she was _moving_. She felt too easy a target standing still, as though a Jkathen guardsman could burst into the clearing at any moment to drag her back. Telling herself to stop being paranoid did as much good as telling Vixen to stand still. Might as well shake her fist at the wind to make it stop blowing.  
  
Six days of rest and quality feed had done her mare good, giving the sorrel higher spirits then she'd had since before the pair first crossed the border into Rethwellan. She was almost doing _too_ good; Jana had to put some muscle behind her request for the mare to take up a spot behind Tess's horse -her Companion _- _Gavin. Tess would lead them for the first few miles, then Caer would hand off the chirra pack train to her partner so that she and Melli could have their turn at breaking the trail. Jana and Vixen would have a go at it once they were clear of the Comb and the road became easier to follow. As it stood now, she was as likely to lead them off a cliff as not.  
  
Jana had spoken very little since her first night at the lodge, mostly entering into conversation to ask about their route, and the towns they were likely to encounter. Her brother's greatcoat was tied behind her saddle, the two shirts she wore proving ample enough protection in the bright sunlight. Caer had gone digging in the chirra's packs and come up with a leather strip she could use as a hair tie, her own becoming lost after she took her hair down in the blizzard. Jana took advantage of the gift to put her hair in one long braid that could be tucked down the back of her shirt and out of her way.  
  
Breaking a trail through heavy snow was a difficult task even for a Companion, and the going wasn't light work for Vixen and the Chirras even after the trail had been set. They traveled at a snail's pace, pausing frequently to rest their mounts. Jana did note progress as the day went on, and it bolstered her spirits somewhat. The land was becoming flatter with each mile, trees started to appear that actually looked like trees and not misshapen bushes.   
  
Tess and Caer had camp-making down to an exact science, leaving very little for Jana to do besides see to herself and Vixen. It was the easiest traveling she'd done in nearly a year, and she found herself reveling in every boring, monotonous minute of it. No bandits, no lack of food, no worrying over whether there would be enough feed for Vixen. No need to spend the precious few coins she had left, and no spending half a candlemark fighting to get a campfire burning. Who knew that it could be so gloriously wonderful to have _nothing_ going on?   
  
Caer had done a fairly good job of explaining the trip, so Jana wasn't surprised when two days later they rode right past the first town that appeared by the lefthand side of the road. There were only a handful of people to be seen, mending fences and working on roofs collapsed by the weight of the snow. The ones that did bother to glance up at the road as they went by had only sour looks for the Heralds, a few going so far as to spit in their general direction.   
  
Holderkin live in the land closest to the Comb, Caer had explained on their last day at the lodge, and they are infamous throughout Valdemar for their dislike of strangers, women and Heralds in particular. I think any advantage we could gain by stopping there will be overwhelmed by the frosty reception we're sure to receive.  
  
We're too cheeky for Tess had added with a smile and a wink. They like their women to be silent and out of the way.  
  
The land seemed brighter once they were clear of the last Hold, as though the farmers' drab colored clothing and singularly uninspired architecture had depressed the land itself. That night they camped at a small cabin already stocked with provisions, that Tess called a waystation. It was plain and practical, but seemed the very lap of luxury after making rough camp in the snow. While the Heralds fixed their bedrolls and started in on putting together dinner, Jana volenteered to see to the animals.   
  
The horses had only a lean-to for protection, but whomever had built this place had done so with a careful eye for the weather. The wind and the snow it brought were buffeted and diverted clear by the bulk of the waystation itself, and only the worst of the winter storms would necessitate bringing the animals into the waystation proper. Jana found two wooden barrels of a barley and oat grain mix where Tess had promised they would be, the grain smelling fresh even though the barrel tops were quite dusty.  
  
Vixen and the chirras crowded her for their dinner, and she had to swat the largest of the wooly creatures on the nose to get it to back away long enough for her to pour a bucket of the grain mix in the trough. The rest took the hint and belatedly recalled the manners they were supposed to have. The Heralds' Companions were as well mannered as they had been since the first, staying a polite distance away until Jana had filled two buckets and hung them from the stall divider. Caer had said that they were far more intelligent than a horse, and didn't need to be trained at all. Jana was doubtful of the last - no matter how intelligent a horse was, it was still a horse - but couldn't help but admire a beast that had the entire package; beauty, brains, smooth gaits and a functional build that would stand up to even the hardest riding. Pity they couldn't breed them in a more practical color.  
  
It must have been a trick of the light, perhaps the work of a too tired mind, but Jana would have sworn on her Mother's grave that just as that last thought crossed her mind, the white mare raised her head slightly from her feed and _winked_ at her. She stood and watched the mare eat for a few moments longer, but the horse didn't offer up any further strange behavior. _I need to be careful to get a few more hour's sleep tonight, _she mused,_ or I'll start spooking at snowflakes like a newly weaned filly. _She used the same bucket as she had to portion out the grain to bring in snow for the water buckets, placing two of the large metal tubs in the warmest corner of the lean-to where the snow would melt quickly. With one last suspicious glance back at Melli, she rejoined the Heralds inside.   
_  
_Tess hadn't been exaggerating Caer's lack of cooking skills. If she hadn't been cold, tired and hungry enough to wrestle a change-lion for her supper, Jana doubted that she would have been able to get down one small bowl of the stew, much less two. It was with great pleasure that she handed her bowl back to Tess to be washed. Three bodies and a small fire was enough to get the room to the edge of almost being _too_ hot, and Jana slipped off one of her shirts to roll up and use as a pillow, her greatcoat serving as a blanket. The goose-down stuffed bedroll she had started her trip with had been traded off for a few pounds of salted venison at a homestead in mid-Rethwellan, the woolen blanket paying for a night's stay at an inn a week later.   
  
The Heralds didn't seem to be in any hurry to settle down for the night, so Jana judged it as good a time as was likely to come up for getting answers to some of her more nagging questions.  
  
You said that every Herald has a Companion, she began, once she saw she had Caer's attention, and that the royalty does too. And you said that the Herald Trainees all have a Companion of their own before they enter the Collegium. But who decides which people are given a Companion?  
  
Not all royalty remember, just those who are also Heralds. The Monarch and heir must be Heralds, or they aren't considered fit to be crowned, but there are plenty of royals in our history who never wore white unless it was a fashion statement. Caer had a way of speaking carefully that made it seem as though she was giving each and every question great thought, without her manner ever slipping over into condensation. As for who decides what people get Chosen, that's up to the Companions themselves.  
  
But _how _? This was the part Jana couldn't seem to wrap her mind around. How do they know what people? And how do you know that a Companion has Chosen someone and not just taken a liking to them?  
  
Caer chuckled. You've just asked the great unanswered question of Valdemar. No one but the Companions themselves know what criteria they use to pick a new Herald. We do know that when certain people are chosen, such as a firestarter - you know what those are, right?  
  
Someone who can start fires at will, but who doesn't have any mage powers. I heard a story about one born to a Shin'a'in clan once. The tale had ended with the boy dead by his own mother's hand after he proved unable to control the grassfires he was constantly starting. Sacrifice of the individual for the greater good had been a frequent theme in Huntsman Jal's stories, which rarely had the simple resolutions and happy endings the Bards often sang of.  
  
You're ahead of most then. Many aren't aware of any abilities _except_ for mage powers. In any case, we've seen that when a firestarter is Chosen, it means that within a short time Valdemar will fall into circumstances that are such as to require a firestarter's talents. That is one of the simpler examples I could give you, but I believe it illustrates my point well.  
  
Jana nodded. That does make sense.  
  
And as for how we know a person has been Chosen, Tess said, taking up the question, let's just say that it is not an event that could possibly be faked or mistaken. Blame it on divine intervention, if that makes it easier for you to grasp, but know that a Choosing is _always_ genuine. It's one of the reasons Heralds are so trusted. People know that if they see a Herald, that person is in that position honestly, not because of political maneuvering or bribery.  
_  
_ I think I'm getting it. At least more than I was. It was still all very confusing, but somewhat clearer. She could well understand the importance of leadership and information-gathering positions being merit-based, and not a matter of how willing the person was to spread their legs or poison the competition. That was very clear to her indeed.  
  


  
+  
  
  


The road took them steadily north, past snow covered fields and cozy little townships tucked back into the folds of the hills. The threat of snow was back in the air, and the Heralds set a quick pace to take advantage of the clear road while it lasted. Not that it was a hardship on Jana or Vixen. Covering the roads between Felwether and Mournedealth in a five span, never stopping for more than a candlemark, the baying of hounds and huntsmen's horns never fading from your back trail - _that_ had been hardship. This was a lover's stroll around the garden pond in spring.   
  
With each town they rode into Jana was again surprised by how incredibly _friendly_ the people were. They had no need to fear the agents of their Monarch, no worry that the arrival of a uniformed rider would bring hardship and despair. Even the names of the places were inviting; Sweetsprings, Horn, Dog Inn. City names in Jkatha did tend to lack a certain warmth. Ko'ons, Lumbok and Atabar did not sound like places that would be enjoyable to stay in, though Ko'ons was actually quite pleasant. The terraced gardens and tree lined streets had stayed imprinted in her memory for months after visiting Mother's family there.  
  
Riding in the Heralds' company brought privileges beyond protection from bandits and thieves. Jana found herself receiving the same generosity the townsfolk showed the other two women, as well as some extra coddling from the elder women. The outline of her ribs was quickly disappearing under the onslaught of sweets and baked goods piled on her plate at every inn, and after a night spent sleeping on the softest overstuffed feather mattress the innkeeper owned the thought of having only a thin coat between the rocky ground and herself was torturous.   
  
The once finicky Vixen had learned her lesson from months without, not passing by any opportunity to gorge herself on abundant feed provided by the inn stables they stayed at. Jana had been forced to make a point of taking the stable boys aside at each new inn, making sure they would understand and respect her wishes for the mare to be fed lighter than the other horses. It was a new battle at each inn, and the townspeople's lack of horse-sense had her ready to wail and tear out hair. You _didn't_ feed an almost pony-small mare the way you did a dray horse, and you _certainly_ didn't try to compensate for months of light rations in a single feeding by stuffing the poor horse like a feast-day goose!   
  
The towns had been growing larger as they rode away from the border, with walls and planned out streets. They were much busier as well, the small group actually getting themselves wedged into something of a traffic mix-up while trying to ride out of Kettlesmith on a dark morning. There was a small faire taking place that day, and the farmers and craftsmen who would be selling their wares were all trying to get their wagons in through the gate before first light broke, when foot traffic would make navigating the narrow streets nigh on impossible. The Companions and chirras weaved in and out of the line of wagons and pack animals without any fuss, but it took a few false starts before Jana could convince Vixen that she was capable of doing the same. Kettlesmith was only a five day ride from Haven in good weather, and Caer thought that they could make it in seven even with the snow that fell light and steady.  
  
The road was more or less following a river now, that Tess called the Terilee. It wandered in and out of view depending on how the road turned, never staying out of sight for more than a mile or two. It was deep and swift enough to resist freezing over, and made watering the stock and washing clothes that much easier. Tess actually bathed in it one night, taunting Caer and Jana to join in while they stood by the bank wondering as to what madness had seized their companion. Even the horses seemed to agree that Tess was crazy, standing well back from the water's edge while drinking so that no part of _them_ got wet. Caer got the last laugh on that one. It was several candlemarks in front of the fire before Tess quit shivering and her lips went back to being their proper color.  
  
They were four days out from Kettlesmith when Tess spotted the Herald. Jana and Caer were able to see him as well after a minute, the dim white spot on the far horizon turning into a horse and rider as they drew closer.  
  
Do we know who it is? Caer asked Tess, who was standing in her stirrups with her eyes shaded trying to pick up more details.  
  
Grey hair, and his legs are hanging well past his Companion's barrel. Has to be Treyon. We don't have anyone else that old or tall on circuit.  
  
It seemed to Jana that the Companion must surely be flying, for every time she blinked the white horse had covered an incredible amount of distance. The Herald was slightly out of the saddle and low over his mount's neck, urging him on to greater effort. She could hear the quick staccato of hoof beats, and so could her mare. Vixen had no intentions of standing still if some other horse got to be out running, and Jana finally pulled her off the road so that her impatient fidgeting wouldn't cause any hassle for the Heralds. Caer caught her eye as she slipped Vixen by Melli, handing Jana the rope of the lead chirra. She took it, grudgingly. Keeping Vixen and the chirras from getting tangled up with each other was going to take as much luck as skill.  
  
The Herald waited until the last second to pull rein, his Companion actually skidding slightly before coming to a stop within a handspan of Caer and Melli. The white coat was dark with sweat, and the stallion - no doubt of that from the angle Jana was at! - stood with his nostrils flared and sides heaving.  
  
Treyon, what's going on? Melli hadn't so much as batted an eyelash since they had spotted the rider, and she stood under Caer now as though she was white marble and not flesh. Jana was impressed beyond words. She really needed to track someone down who could tell her how they managed to train the horses like that!  
  
The old Herald was nearly as out of breath as his mount, and it took him a few tries before he could speak coherently. One of the Trainees Saw a band of travelers being murdered, between the first waystation out from Kettlesmith and before the first one out of Haven. It was almost dark, so a few candlemarks from now. They're not sure who, didn't get a good look, but they said that attack was magical. No adept mages in or near Haven right now, so they grabbed me up as the next best thing. He smiled weakly. A half-trained old journeyman is better then nothing, I suppose.  
  
Tess and Caer gave each other one of their Looks, worry evident on both faces. We haven't seen anyone, Caer said, But we'll ride with you to find the travelers. Jana -  
  
-will camp here. All the gear is on the chirras anyway, and if you're not back in a day I'll ride on to Haven, Jana answered, cutting the Herald off before she could speak further. Caer looked relieved, then wheeled Melli and took off down the way they'd come at a gallop, Tess and Treyon falling in behind her. It was only a minute or two before they disappeared around a bend, the sound of hoof beats fading slowly into the distance.   
  


+  


Nearly three weeks spent in the company of experts had done wonders for Jana's camping skills. She was set for the night with a fire blazing in under a candlemark, and even found enough time to go fishing in the river before the last rays of sunlight faded. The spot she choose was set far back enough that it was unlikely anyone passing on the road would see her, unless they were specifically looking. She had set up a picket line for the animals between the two largest trees, then took them off one by one to water and feed them. She'd just finished with the last chirra, and had a small fish steak beginning to heat over the fire.  
  
Do you have room by the fire for an old man to warm his bones?  
  
Jana screamed. She wasn't proud of it, she would never admit to it in company, but when the raspy voice came out of the darkness she dropped the skillet into the fire and screamed like a stepped-on kitten. She rose and whirled around, trying to see who had spoken. Nothing but darkness met her eyes, darkness and the picket line of nervous stock. Vixen was set back against her rope, the whites of her eyes catching the firelight. The chirras had grouped themselves as closely together as their leads would allow, and were making a low humming noise. Jana could feel her heart speeding up, fear making her breathe come in pants and her pulse echo in her ears. _What's making the animals nervous? They shouldn't be nervous! _She put her back to the fire as she slowly turned around again, scanning the woods around her. The hilt of her knife caught her eye, firelight reflecting off of the rose quartz stone set into the pommel. She had tucked it loosely into her pack after she finished cleaning the fish. She slowly pulled it free and stuck it into the sheath on her belt, keeping both eyes trained on the perimeter as she did so.  
  
Are you still out there grandfather? she called. I have room by my fire, but please show yourself first. The tree branches rustled, as if in a wind, though no breeze came through the camp. She could hear the steady crunch-crunch of footsteps in snow. Two, maybe three pairs, coming from the direction of the road. She nearly screamed again when something large splashed into the river behind her, drawing blood as she bit down on her lip to stay quiet. The footsteps were drawing closer, sounding as if they were circling around the camp instead of making a straight path towards it._ Bright Lady, please have mercy for your wayward daughter! Let these be farm boys playing a trick!  
  
_ The chirras' humming grew louder, and Vixen was starting to truly struggle against her line now, forefeet braced as she threw her entire weight back against the tie rope. More sounds were coming from the river now, two sets of feet making their way through the snow towards camp. Eyes in the woods caught the firelight, man-height and cat slitted. Two sets - then four, another coming into view to make five.   
  
:: _Use me!_ ::   
  
Her hand rose unbidden, covering the rune stone she wore on a leather throng around her neck. The stone could save her, could stop an army if need be, even though her welfare hadn't been the thought behind its creation. But the price was so very high.... Memories of blood on snow rose in her mind, blood and pleading words and a chest rising for its last breath, a child's heart shattering. Far too high a price, even for her life. She dropped her hand.  
  
The stone's voice took up a screeching chant, growing louder with each word. ::_Use the magic use the magic use ituseituseit!:: _The fury behind the words nearly drove her to her knees, spikes of pain lancing her temples as she fought the command.Jana screamed again, as much pain as fear in her voice. It had been too long since the stone last made a demand, she'd forgotten the punishment for going against its wishes.   
  
_You are not my mistress!_ _Never again, never! _A loud crack echoed through the camp as Vixen's line broke, the mare scrambling backwards as she sought to regain her balance. She stumbled slightly as she lunged for Vixen, the stone making once last attempt at stopping her. She recovered just as the first of the things reached the far edge of the camp, catching the mare just as she would have shot past her to freedom. There was enough rope hanging down from the halter for Jana to grab, setting her weight against it to pull the terrified horse off balances and into a circle around her. Something flashed in the corner of her eye, tawny fur and bared fangs and children's nightmares come alive.   
  
Two bounces and a lunge put her belly down across the mare's back, nearly tipping off the other side as she righted herself. The broken line was too short for Jana to hold onto while riding, and she let it go with a curse. Something grabbed at her ankle and she kicked at it without turning around. She couldn't look, knew she couldn't look or the fear would make her freeze like a deer caught in lantern light. Jana felt Vixen gather herself and lash out with both hinds, two voices crying out in pain behind them.   
  
She dug her heels in and yelled at Vixen for speed, twining her hands into the long mane for grip. Something screamed behind her, a cat's yowl and owl screech and human scream all rolling into one sound. Branches clawed at her legs and face, the mare crashing through thick underbrush before coming out onto the road. Jana hung on with all she had, not caring that the mare's gallop uncontrolled as long as they were still putting distance between themselves and the things. Vixen was running as she never had before, the road beneath them flowing like it was liquid as they fled. _Run love, run, _she silently begged the mare. _Fly for me sweetling!_  
  


+  
  


He's never been wrong before. Treyon shook his head slightly, puzzlement etched across his features. I don't understand why he was wrong this time. He was hunched against the cold, one of Tess's spare cloaks barely spanning his shoulders. Absent-minded as always, Treyon had left Haven dressed only in his summer Whites.   
  
The Companions had run themselves into the ground making it to Kettlesmith before the moon rose, with not hair nor hide of a traveling party to be seen. The three held to a much more sedate pace now as they rode back towards Haven. Melli wouldn't admit to being anything other than indestructible, but Caer could feel the hesitation in her stride that hadn't been there before. She also noted how calmly Gavin was walking besides Treyon's Dertrin. The two had been foaled the same year, and usually reverted back to acting like they were yearling colts again in each other's presence, play-snapping and tossing their heads like fools. Both stallions were feeling the effort they'd made.  
  
Mistakes happen, she said calmly, and he easily could have caught a glimpse of the past or distant future.  
  
No, no, he was certain. The whole situation was an obvious worry for the old Herald. Trouble was afoot tonight. Something must have happened after he got the vision I suppose, to change the path of things.  
  
Melli flicked one delicate ear back, cocking her head slightly to get a better view of what was behind her. :: _Rider coming up, Chosen. Running hard_. ::   
  
The air was crisp and clear, sound traveling farther then was usual. Caer picked up on the distant echo as soon as Melli had spoken. Treyon and Tess must have received similar warnings, for they turned in their saddles as Caer did. A dray horse came galloping around the last bend in the road, coat shining white in the moonlight. The boy riding him couldn't have been past six or seven, his heels drumming into the light hide at a point not even a quarter of the way down the horse's barrel.  
  
he cried. The horse didn't need more than a suggestion to slow down, covering the last few yards at a rough trot that made Caer wince in sympathy for the boy. He pulled the gray to a stop a few feet short of Caer, fumbling with the long driving lines he held in lieu of proper riding reins. He was panting worse than the horse was, tripping over words in his hurry to speak. 'eralds! My Da sent me ta find ou, we've a farm just ou'side of Kettlesmith. We eard you was jus ere lookin' for anythin' strange like, and he's askin' for you to come n see wha we've found.  
  
Caer blinked at him, trying to puzzle out what he had said. It wasn't just that people minced all the words, they switched the vowel sounds all around sideways and backwards and said it all so darn fast. Noble born and sheltered, she had been nearly twenty before she came across anyone who_ didn't_ speak unaccented common. The local dialects of the fishing and farmer folk might as well be Karsite for all she understood. Tess was used to her shortcomings, and didn't need to be asked to step in and translate. Gavin moved to put her parallel with the boy, and Tess laid a hand on his arm to calm him.  
  
What's it your Da found, lad?  
  
One o' those witch-circles, idden way in the woods. Nutin' we've ever seen afore, as there's _boots_ innit. Boots, n fresh tracks leadin' out but no leadin' in.  
  
Boots? Like mens' boots? Tess asked, worry starting to creep into her voice. Caer exchanged a look with Treyon, who had skipped right past worry and was looking out and out afraid.  
  
The boy quickly nodded. Aye, jus' like Da wears. An' the tracks is lookin' like a big cat, withs paw-pads n such, jus as long as a man's.  
  
Tess glanced back at Caer, and she nodded at her bondmate. Tess turned back to the boy, keeping her tone light and easy. Well then, that sounds like a job to be needin' a Herald then. Lead on lad, show us your witch-circle. The boy nodded again, pulling his horse around and using the blight of the reins to chase him up into a canter. The Heralds fell in behind, the Companions shifting into a smooth as glass traveling gait.  
  
:: _How bad is this likely to be?_:: Caer asked Treyon, using mindspeech so as to not unduly upset the boy. The other Herald might joke about his meager abilities, but he _was_ a mage, and had been given more opportunity to study the change-circles and talk with the experts than either Caer or Tess.  
  
:: _Our worst fears come true, _:: he answered. :: _A change-beast with human wits and wiles? I can't imagine._ ::  
  
:: _Why would it wait so long to leave the circle? It's been years!_::  
  
He paused before answering, mulling the question over in his mind. :: _Who can tell? I could give you a dozen plausible explanations, and a dozen more far-fetched ones. The only important thing, from my point of view, is that it is here and we are going to have to deal with it._ ::  
  
:: _Will we be able to reason with it?_ :: A few of the smaller animals who had been caught in the change-circles during the mage-storms had been brought back to Haven, to give the Heralds an idea of what they might come across. They had all been vicious, as if the change itself had altered some part of their basic personality. Tess, then still in Trainee gray, had nearly lost an entire hand to what had once been a wood lark.  
  
Treyon's answer only confirmed her fears. :: _The Change will have driven them mad, if not made them into something more primal altogether. I do not wish for harm to come to any innocent being, but I will be approaching this with my hand on my sword , for my own sake _::  
  
Caer shivered, and drew her cloak tighter. The moonlit night around them no longer looked as inviting as it had.  



	3. Between Dreams and Truth

  
Chapter 3 - Between Dreams and Truth  


  
  
Jana had no way of knowing how far the mare had run, only that the time had felt an eternity, with the wind tearing at her hair and her heartbeat echoing in her ears. The moonlight shining off the paving stones and dancing in amongst the tree branches had given the ride an ethereal quality, a night of dreaming come alive to travel the road beside her. Vixen's flying gallop hadn't lasted long. She'd been traveling at a more sedate pace for the majority, more of a fast canter then a true run. Jana hadn't untangled her fingers from the mare's mane until she slowed further still, picking up the smooth oddly broken-up trot she favored. Her hands were cramped from holding on so tightly, bloody in a few places where the coarse hair had bitten deeply into the finger joints. It took a few tries to get her fingers to uncurl and resume their full range of motion. She could already feel the slow burn beginning in her low back and thighs, giving her a taste of the misery she was going to be in for tomorrow. She'd been twelve the last time she rode bareback, the muscles she had built up in the saddle since then not quite translating over as well as she had hoped.  
  
Vixen slowed again, moving into a long-strided walk. Jana risked a grasp at the dangling line still hanging down from the halter. The mare's head moved around more at this gait than any other, rising and dipping in time to her strides. This did not make Jana's task any easier, and the line slipped away with each try. Maybe she leaned _all_ the way over the mare's neck...success! She swung down without letting go of the rope, settling into a brisk walk beside the mare without the Vixen's stride ever breaking. Jana had to hobble the first few steps - her knees weren't quite sure about whether they were going to work or not- but her aches were bearable, quickly settling into background noise.   
  
The night was unnaturally still, no night-birds or bugs calling out for love or challenges. She missed the crickets' chirps, but not the birds. She'd used to love the sound of birdsong when she was still a little, imagining the males as master bards wooing their ladyloves with great ballads and love poems. Her great-uncle had burst that bubble when she was ten, and she'd never been able to hear the sound since without thinking back to his lecture on how they were just telling each other _Stay Away! My Tree! Get Your Own!'_ . With most things in life, the fantasy tended to be better then the reality. Take great journeys as a good example. No one ever talked about fleas and loose bowels in the epic tales, and she'd yet to see a blistered arse mentioned in a novel. Jana was of the firm opinion that there would be far fewer cases of children leaving home for adventure if bards would add a few pertinent details to the grand stories they composed.   
  
She was lost in imagining the details of what would take place should she ever encounter a bard (_Now, look here, _she would say, complete with wagging finger_, your hero has been on the road a month, and he hasn't lost his horse once and has yet to sicken himself with his own bad cooking! How realistic is that?_) and it took a few seconds before she realized that she'd been spoken to.  
  
:: _Janaveris _:: The stone's voice was soft, the sort of whisper you used to coax a kitten down from the loft timbers.   
  
Jana set her jaw and continued walking, letting her mind follow inconsequential paths. Past experience had taught her that it made it difficult for the stone to stay with her thoughts when they ambled so. She had liked the shade of red that barkeep had been wearing in Kettlesmith, perhaps she could find a bolt of the cloth before she left the country. And the Miller's apprentice at the inn before last - now _there_ was a lad to make you think about settling down! Such pretty blue eyes, and his bottom-!  
  
:: _Janaveris!_ :: It's tone was sharper now, stopping just short of causing pain. :: _You will not ignore me! _::  
  
You've been quiet for near on nine months. Why talk now? The urge to just rip the thrice-damned thing from around her neck was overwhelming at times, and she forced her hand to stay put on the lead rope, shoving the other one into the waistband of her britches. She'd tried that once at the beginning, with two weeks in the Healer's bed to show her the extent of her folly. She wouldn't be free until the thing was dead, and how did you kill someone who had no body?  
  
:: _There is danger in this place. You must leave Valdemar with haste_. :: It's mind-voice carried worry about it's own well-being. That was an interesting change from the norm.  
  
Danger to me or danger to you? she asked, wondering how much detail she would be able to get out of the stone. It tended towards cryptic comments and riddles, when it spoke at all.  
  
:: _Danger to one is danger to all. You must leave_::  
  
She had a small smile on her lips, the sort that Huntsman Jal always said preceded disaster. The rune stone was afraid. There was something here that could harm it. _This country is growing more appealing by the minute. _No, I don't believe I will._  
  
_

+_  
_

  
No _wonder_ we never knew about this, Tess said, voice tinged with awe. The three Heralds stood grouped along the outside of a clearly delineated circle, a half dozen farmer-folk watching their reactions from the far side.  
  
The boy had led them a goodly ways down the road, then off onto rambling paths through the woods, trails so narrow and overgrown that even the horses had to duck a few times. Once they'd reached the farmstead the boy's father took over, leading them along another several miles worth of the same trails. Caer had faired the best of the lot, with only a few small scratches on her face. Poor Treyon looked as though he'd just challenged an entire merc company to a bar brawl, and she would have bet Tess was regretting all the extra sweets she had been dining on lately.  
  
There wasn't any question of where Valdemar ended and the change-circle began. Even after so many years the dividing line was as sharp as saw-cut wood. On one side, evergreen briar-berry bushes, goldenoaks and the sweet-smelling saddlewood trees that were so common in these southern areas. On the other, a scene straight from the Pelagirs. Rotten smelling flowers that turned to follow the movement of the mage-light Treyon sent out, sickly looking bushes that glowed with a faint luminescence in the moonlight. There was only one tree in the large circle, a blackened dead thing that harbored a cave entrance under it's partially exposed roots.  
  
That then was the answer to at least one of their questions. The entrance was large enough that Caer would barely have to stoop to enter, and Tess had counted to six hundred and twenty-eight before the mage-light Treyon sent in returned. The cave the tree protected had to be massive, and there was a good chance that there was a water supply hidden away somewhere in it's depths.  
  
There were seven pairs of boots near the edge of the circle. Plain and tough, they were of the style the working class bought most often. The leather was starting to rot but it was still clear that they'd been pulled off without being unlaced, one still holding half of a moldy woolen sock. As if perhaps the feet they had covered were no longer large enough to hold them on, and wasn't that a dreadful thought! Seven pairs of tracks led out of the circle and to the north, the best tracker among the farmers claiming that one led and the rest fanned out behind. Caer could see where they had broken through the underbrush, one of the men having pulled a small bit of light brown fur from a broken bush near the prints They were as the boy described, looking like a cat's paw would if you had a way to make it nearly two handspans long and half as wide.  
  
What ye reckon we should be doing bout this mess, The farmers had grown impatient with the prolonged silence, shifting from foot to foot and stomping their boots to keep their feet warm. It was cold, and this place carried ill tidings. Caer could sympathize with their desire to return home.  
  
You've been a greater help then anyone could have been expected to be, she said, letting her smile alight on each man in turn, and I'll see that you are rewarded for this news. It's too dark to take any action now, but we will see that the appropriate people are notified about this and action taken by morning  
  
:: _That's moren likely the fanciest talk these folks have ever eard, _:: Tess teased, her mind-voice taking on a heavy farmer's accent, '_an' I think that short fella fancies you more'n he does his best mule._ _Lookit! He gots new boots! That's a fine catch of a man, he is._ :: Caer could see' a picture of her bondmate dressed up like a farmer's wife as she spoke, leaning up against a fence post with hands planted on thick hips. ::_I be willin' ta share, iffin' you picked up a fine man like that_ _un_. ::  
  
Caer had to fight to keep her face straight, and she could hear Melli's laughter echoing in the back of her mind. :: _You are horrid, do you know that? Horrid! And I wonder why Mother fainted when I introduced you!_ ::  
  
Tess merely winked at her, and Treyon didn't do as good a job as he thought he had with hiding his snicker behind a cough. He didn't have to know what was said to interpret that look on Tess's face, he'd been at the end of her humor himself enough times to simply know.  
  
The farmers nodded and called out their good-byes, disappearing back into the words as silently as foxes slipping away in the night. Including the short fellow with the rabbit teeth, pockmarked face and new pair of boots._ Fine catch indeed!_ Their families would have the fires stoked, warm food ready on the tables as they waited for the menfolk to return. Caer almost wished she could go back with them. She had a long ride to look forward to, and no doubt a round of questioning before she was allowed to slip off into bed. People would need to be informed about this, then told over again to make sure they caught every detail. It could be candlemarks before everyone was satisfied with her reports.  
  
Treyon's sudden coughing fit brought her back from her woolgathering. He was more sensitive to the weather then either her or Tess, his thin clothing and thinner frame not helping matters. Heralds had a harsh life, and it took its toll on the old man despite the care the others took to ease his burden whenever possible. He'd put in twenty years of work as an accounting scribe in Haven before Dertrin showed up outside his door one brisk fall morning. The Companion had rapped neatly on the glass-paned door with one hoof before walking right on into the tiny office, as nonchalant as if he did this sort of thing every year at tax collecting time. One of the Bardic trainees had composed a little ditty about the Companion who went to get his tax-share added up and found his Chosen instead, singing it for the first time at the Compass Rose three days after Treyon put on his first set of grays. It had become an instant hit, and Caer doubted there was anyone left in Haven who _didn't_ know Treyon's story by now.  
  
His had become a fairly common story now anyway, as more and more older trainees came in who had mage gift in addition to their other talents. Almost as though the Companions had been waiting until magic (weak as it was for the time being) returned to Valdemar to Choose them. Melli and Gavin had both laughed at her when she'd voiced that suspicion, but she held to it none the less. There was much the Companions shared with their Heralds, but even more they held back.  
  
Tess led the three back along the thin trails they had come down, taking the lead since neither Caer or Treyon could remember whether the first turn they came to was a right, or a left - or did they go straight? Tess seemed to have the whole thing mapped out in her head, or perhaps Gavin did. The three emerged back onto the road without having taken a single wrong turn, and the Companions picked up a steady ground-eating canter towards the north.  
  
  


*  


  
It was dark out. This, Jana told herself, was a silly thing to be worrying over. It was night. Of _course _it was dark out. It had been dark out after sundown for every night of her life, and she'd spent plenty of time alone in strange places in the dark without ever giving it a second thought.  
  
But tonight was different. It had been fine when the trees were set back from the road, and she'd had a clear view of what lay around her. But the farther she walked the closer the trees came, until they touched the edge of the pave-stones and stretched their branches out to touch those of the trees across the way. This was the perfect setup for an ambush, and she doubted she'd be as blessed as she'd been for the first attack. Moonlight illuminated, but not to the degree firelight did. Cat's eyes wouldn't catch the moonlight unless they were foolish enough to look up, and the creatures back at the camp hadn't seemed foolish. If Vixen hadn't freed herself, if Jana had been forced to go to her, and untie the mare with hands made clumsy by fear.... She didn't know if she would have been food or sport, or perhaps both, but she had no doubt that the things' intentions were evil. Just the _wrongness_ of them was testament of that.  
  
Vixen walked quietly beside her, too tired to cause a fuss even if she wanted to. Jana kept the short tie rope wrapped around her right hand. Better to be dragged then to be stuck on foot with monsters stalking the night. Vixen's sweat had soaked through Jana's britches, and the insides of her thighs itched enough to drive her out of her mind. She scratched as best she could with her left hand, and sent a silent prayer of thanks up to the heavens for the deserted road. She wasn't sure what someone would think if they were to come up on a young girl walking spraddle-legged down the road with her hand between her thighs!  
  
Both girl and horse jumped when a branch broke nearby. Vixen snatched her head up, making Jana stretch her arm out to it's fullest to stay with her, and the mare's ears swiveled back. Jana looked behind them, but couldn't see anything, so she watched Vixen for any further signs of distress. She didn't have to wait long.  
  
Even being semi-prepared, she was still yanked off her feet when Vixen lunged forward. Jana cursed, grabbed a fold of loose skin at the base of the mare's neck, and twisted. Hard. It was enough to make Vixen hesitate, and Jana grabbed a handful of mane and jumped up. She landed belly down across the mare's back, but she'd overcompensated and tipped right off the other side. Her head bounced off the frozen ground hard enough to make the world dim and waver, up no longer distinguishable from down. The sound of Vixen's retreating hoof beats was loud in her ears, each step resonating within her like the tolling of the temple bell on a funeral day.   
  
It took her two tries to get off of the ground. Everything seemed to be in working order, but her parts were moving as slowly as wagon wheels left overnight in a freeze, and she wasn't able to move her arms quickly enough to save herself when she tipped forward. She was going to be in a sorry state come morning, if she lived that long. Snow was crunching under a steady stride, something man-size walking through the trees towards her. She could just catch the slightest hint of another behind it. She wavered a bit once she'd gained her feet, but steadied herself.  
  
She didn't bother to run. Why should she? Where was she to go? She stood with her shoulders thrown back and her face set, determined to meet her end with as much dignity as she could muster. If she couldn't quite seem to catch her breath, if her hands were trembling even worse then the rest of her; well, those couldn't be helped. _Only fools and madmen never feel fear_, Huntsman Jal had said,_ and the true test of courage is not in denying that you are afraid but in accepting that you are and continuing on regardless.  
  
_ The first was nearly to her now, its steps slowing after it realized she wasn't going to run. The second was coming closer, the rest of the group starting to emerge from the trees. They were pretty, in the same twisted way that a _wyrsa_ was elegant, a change-lion magnificent. The wrongness of the creatures couldn't take that away from them.  
  
They looked as though someone had taken a house-cat and used it as a base to make a person, changing the dimensions but not the basic shape. While the legs were the right size, with upper and lower portions that kept human proportions, the knees bent the wrong way and they walked on their toes with heels kept well in the air. Their arms fit the same pattern, hanging farther forwards off the shoulder than seemed right, with stubby fingers and flattened paw pads being the only part that wasn't pure cat. They wore no clothes, but the fur that covered them was heavy enough to disguise their sex regardless.  
  
She felt the tugging on the edge of her awareness that signaled the stone's attempt to take over, and resisted it, reinforcing the barrier that kept it out.  
  
:: _Fool!_ :: the stone shrieked into her mind. :: _Foolish, dimwitted girl! Is it worth your death? You will burn in the deepest level of Hell for your deeds. Burn! Do you truly believe She will care one wit that you were coerced? He died by your hand! That is all that will matter! _:: Pain flared in her temples, but was kept at bay the same way a pinched arm distracted from a leg being stitched up. The fear she felt was overwhelming, not allowing any room for other sensation.  
  
The first creature came to a stop, standing only a horse-length short of her. It studied her as intently as she did it, tufted ears twitching back and forth while the overly-large slitted eyes roamed up her body and then back down again. It smiled, revealing a row of tiny needle-like teeth within it's short muzzle. The trembling in Jana's chest grew worse. The others spread out to form a circle as they arrived, coming one by one until seven stood around her. They didn't seem to notice the cold, even though ice coated their upper lips from the moisture in each breathe.  
  
Bad girl, to run away. Very bad indeed.   
  
One behind her spoke, and Jana recognized the same raspy voice from earlier. It spoke slowly, a slight pause between each word. Something soft touched the back of her neck, and she flinched away by instinct.  
  
Horrible, aren't we? said another. Too horrible to be given any courtesy. They turn us away, call us monsters. They think they are better, with their smooth skin and clever hands.  
  
The rest rumbled an agreement, the one behind her reaching out again to tug on Jana's braid.   
  
Pretty, was I. Pretty, very pretty. It yanked the braid with inhuman strength, pulling Jana off her feet. She landed on her rump in the show, then was pushed down harshly to lay on her back. The one that had pulled her down put a foot across her throat so that she could not rise, then bent down until she could smell the rotted meat smell of its breathe, folding itself with the skill of a tumbler in a traveling show. You should not be pretty if I cannot be. It flexed one hand, and Jana whimpered as claws slipped free of their sheathes. They were long and dark, gleaming in the dim light.  
  
No, not yet. The largest one spoke sharply when Jana's captor would have brought its claws across her face. The big tawny one seemed to be the leader, in any case the pressure on her throat eased slightly and the claws disappeared from her field of view. Keep her breathing for a little more, then you may play.  
  
Tears leaked to trickle down her cheeks despite her best efforts, and a furred finger wiped them away with a rough chuckle. Good. You should be afraid. You'll be screaming before we be done, sweet screaming.  
  
_I don't want to die! _She sobbed silently, unable to hold back any longer.She'd expected to meet her end at the gallows, or by her own hand when the the running became too much to bear. But this! She'd done nothing to these creatures, done nothing but pick a camp spot for the night. The sheer randomness of the situation made her want to scream and berate the Heavens. _Make it somebody else! Somebody did this, somebody deserves this punishment! Not me, please not me. It's not fair! _There was a sudden warmth between her legs, and she sobbed all the harder with the humiliation of knowing she'd just wet herself.   
  
:: _Fair?_ :: The stone laughed, a sound like a broken wheel-spoke grating against the cobblestones. :: _Not too late to save yourself, little fool._ ::  
_  
No! It would be wrong. No.... but... I don't want to die.  
  
_The stone had been flesh once, but it would be a stretch to say that it had ever been human. No human could have done what she did, not without going insane from the remorse and guilt of it, not gone without seeing a double image of the blood that had dripped from her hands every time she looked down. Any tattered remains of humanity that had existed had been discarded along with the crippled shell of a body when the mage moved her spirit into the pendent. Jana couldn't think of it as a _her_ anymore, not when she was nothing but a stone around her neck. But when given a body...then it was Jess once more, and she was as terrible as anything that had ever left footprints on this world. It wasn't just giving up control of herself that Jana dreaded. It was what Jess _did_ with that control. And Jana would have no say in what was done, no way to reclaim herself. Jess would give Jana her body back when she felt like it, and not a moment sooner. If she was stronger, or Jana weaker, then she would not have to give the body back _ever_, a fact that often haunted Jana's dreams. It would be bad enough to simply wake up and know that you had done evil, but she would see every last second go by, feel everything that was done. Including the pleasure Jess took in killing, which was the worst thing of all, even over and above the screams of the dying.  
  
But Jana did not want to add her own name to the tally of the dead, Bright Lady forgive her for her vanity and selfishness. If the Goddess had any mercy for her at all, it would at least be hands doing the killing, not teeth and claws. Jess would drive her mad if it could, to make her mind flee and leave a young body for herself. It seemed that she had already discovered the best way to go about that.  
  
:: _You are already damned, girl. What is there to loose? _::  
_  
My soul. But it is already tarnished beyond repair, and a worthy trade for my life. _She found the stone wall' that stood in the back of her head, the one Great-Uncle had shown her how to build so long ago. At the far end was a gate, with a rusty iron hinge. An exact mirror of the gate to Mother's garden in the keep, and the irony of that symbolism never failed to escape her. With one strong push, she swung the gate open and let the stone have access to her power, and to her body.  
  
Awareness shifted, and Jana was thrust into the background, to watch events unfurl as a spectator and not a player. It was disconcerting as always, she'd have vomited if her body was still under her control.   
  
Jess laughed softy as she extended her new senses, taking a thrill from it as she always did. She was stuck looking through Jana's eyes while she remained in her self-inflicted prison, and while the brat had mage potential her lack of knowledge and experience made her skip across things that Jess recognized as being worth a second look, such as nodes as ley-lines. This place was weak, as all were since the magic-bred storms that had ravaged the world. Where ley-lines once flowed strong only the merest trickle of power remained, ground wet by a light mist as opposed to a flash flood. It was enough for Jess, as she had other ways of gathering power.  
  
Jess snapped the neck of the one holding her down, rolling back and flipping to her feet in one smooth move. She caught he cat's life force as it left the body, weaving it into her shields and holding some of it aside for other use. You couldn't get much from such a quick death, nothing like what she could accomplish given a proper amount of time and the right tools, but it supplanted the meager ley-lines nicely.  
  
She was in a fighting crouch before the body even hit the snow, the power that flowed freely through her giving her muscles and tendons strength that even a horse would envy. It didn't hurt that the brat was keeping herself fit now, such an improvement over last time when she'd been unable to draw a horse bow or keep grip on a sword. The rest of the creatures were dumbstruck, staring at her as though she was some demon that had just shed it's skin and reveled itself. Which in a way, wasn't all that inaccurate of a description.  
  
Here kitty, kitty, she called, giving Jana's voice a knife edge it never would have possessed otherwise. Didn't kitty want to play? Well, _play! _  
  
Two went down in a ball of flame, screaming as they writhed on the quickly melting snow. The flames burned white and blue, the magic fueling them making them hotter than any natural fire could be. Another shattered like broken glass. Blood and bits of flesh went flying, and she had to wipe a gob of fat off of her chin. The other three were fleeing towards the tree line, abandoning all pretenses of humanity to run on all fours with their tails tucked in between their legs like kicked dogs.  
  
She hesitated for a second, unsure of what path to take. Kill them from a distance, or....? So many lovely possibilities! The girl so rarely let her have a body to play with, and it had been a pitifully long time since she'd enjoyed the pleasures of flesh. It was just so much more _fulfilling_ to do things by hand. As quickly as the question had come up in her mind, it was solved. She could have her sport, and further her plans as well. And after all, it wasn't _her _mind that was put at risk.  
  
There was a trick to changing forms, and it was more a matter of believing you could do it than of having any great power. And if you happened to have both going for you, it wasn't any effort at all. Flesh shifted, bones melting and reforming. Hands became paws in the time it took to fall forward, even white teeth becoming yellowed fangs. Jana screamed silently from her vantage point as her awareness shifted along with her body, the curse of shape shifting. A purely animal mind could not hold human thoughts, and it was all too easy to forget that she had ever walked on two legs. With each shift it was harder and harder to twist her mind back into what it was before the change, and one day she would fail completely. Jess laughed, the sound coming out as a whine. She was looking forward to the day that Jana remained trapped in the wolf's mind, but at moment she was looking forward to something else more. There were places to go and people to kill, and the night wouldn't last forever.  
  
She might lack the time and equipment to make the cat-creatures pay as they should, but the remaining ones could at least give her a taste of blood as they died. With the trail clear to her both her eyes and nose, the wolf set off into the darkness of the trees at an easy lope. It was time for her to have a little sport.


End file.
